


Right of Caliber: Diva Version

by lemon_and_chai



Series: Right of Caliber [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Dubious Consent, Kinky, Lemon, M/M, Threesome, Toys, Yaoi, bsdm sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_and_chai/pseuds/lemon_and_chai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: The boys play tennis, but in this twisted world, the focus is not tournaments, but earning the Right of Caliber. | 3rd Installment: Fuji and Tezuka are together now, but as Atobe Keigo takes the stage at Regionals, Fuji knows he has to do something...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right of Caliber: Diva Version

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wouldn’t write any more of this premise XD; but I lied. I wish I had something special for Fuji's bday, but this is the best I can do. Happy birthday! Fuji has been my favorite character since 2002... I'm in tears... and so here's some Fuji-sex-torture to celebrate...

Fuji stared up at the stars, admiring their strength for shining through the lights of Tokyo. Even in the center of the park, the City lights cast a pale glow across the sky, coating over a natural night.

Closing his eyes, he listened to the wind blow across his ears, and then, finally, approaching footsteps.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he spoke softly, his voice flat and unemotional. But he was in no way stoic, and he couldn’t bring himself to smile, even in his usual fake way, as he turned around to size up the approaching teen.

“I have no reason to come, so I almost didn’t,” came the smug response. Even in the darkness, Atobe Keigo shone with his bright blue sports shorts, designer clothes, and carefully styled silver hair. His fingers pressed against his face, his silvery eyes piercing into Fuji’s soul and making the brunette shiver. 

“And yet here you are,” Fuji breathed, keeping his voice steady. He couldn’t turn back now.

“You have a pretty face, and you’re using it,” Atobe leered, stepping in close. “I admire that.” He reached up slowly to cup Fuji’s cheek, but the brunette took a step back.

“You haven’t won anything yet.” Fuji set down his bag, and pulled out his racket.

“We haven’t _agreed_ to anything yet.” Those fingers pressed against the diva’s face again. “What do you want?”

“A Challenge of Caliber,” Fuji stated, though they both already knew that was the core of the negotiation. 

“Regarding Regionals in two days, ahn?” Atobe filled in. “But I won’t be playing _you_ there.”

“We’re playing right now,” Fuji snorted, wondering why everything with the diva had to be a game. “We both know you’ll end up playing Tezuka. I want to make a deal with you.”

Seeing Atobe’s smirk, Fuji continued, “If I win tonight, then for my Right, I want you to reject entering a Challenge with Tezuka over the match.”

“So little confidence in your boyfriend?” Atobe frowned. “No, that’s not it. You should be asking him directly not to accept a Challenge, but you can’t. You have no control over him. Mmhmm, I see…” That smirk grew infuriatingly large. “You don’t want him to have sex with me. Win or lose, that’s the outcome of the Right. And you know he wants me - he loves strong, sexy tennis players like myself.”

Fuji wasn’t used to being read, but it was much easier if Atobe understood. It wasn’t like he’d dare admit his fears and relationship woes to a rival team’s captain, and certainly not someone like Atobe. Still, it stung, hearing it all out loud. 

“But, if you’re Challenging _me_ then you must be prepared to lose. It’s even worse if you cheat on him to keep him from cheating on you, no?” The diva looked amused. “Fine, I’ll accept, but since you’ve set an unusual condition, I get one of my own.”

“If I lose - though I have no intention to - then you get to do what you want,” Fuji shrugged. 

“ _When_ I win,” Atobe grinned, “I won’t be enacting my Right right away. If during the tournament, I lose to Tezuka, then you’re mine the next day, and I’m taking out all my frustrations on you. But if I win - and I have every intention to - then I’m taking my Right for both of you at the same time. And Tezuka’s going to watch me fuck you hard.”

“Fine,” the word spilled confidently from Fuji’s mouth, but internally he trembled. He knew Atobe’s strength. 

But he also knew the diva didn’t know about his.

* * *

There were moments during the match that Atobe almost regretted accepting the Challenge.

Fuji was incredible. The beauty of his tennis, his flexibility and almost supernatural sense, and those impossible techniques… it was a shame he didn’t play for Hyoutei. Atobe wondered if there was a way to recruit him - probably if Tezuka ever dumped the tensai, he’d be an easy pick up. The diva filed the thought away for future consideration.

But even with all that elegance, Atobe was better. The match was one of the hardest he’d ever played - his ability to see people’s weaknesses didn’t _work_ on Fuji - but the tensai didn’t have the sheer force of will, that the top circuit players like Tezuka and Yukimura had. The brunette lacked physical strength and focus, and had a habit of giving up points out of hesitation. Even though this match meant so much to him, Fuji couldn’t change his style over night.

By the end of the match, Fuji lay on the ground, curled up on his side, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. 

Atobe couldn’t wait to fuck him.

“See you in two days,” the diva leered.

* * *

All the captains and anyone who had a significant match showed up early. There was horse trading to do.

Negotiations where the Atobe family’s specialty.

The only one of his team to have arrived, Atobe strolled casually around the grounds, nodding at Tezuka once he found him, and the two of them stepped onto a small path through the trees.

“Syuusuke told me about your match,” Tezuka deadpanned. But even with his stoic tone, Atobe could hear the anger underneath it.

He grinned, knowing it wasn’t directed at him.

“Are you going to accept my Challenge or not?” Atobe almost laughed, admiring how steady Seigaku’s Captain held that legendary blank expression.

“I’m adding a condition. If I win, you don’t get to have him.”

This time, Atobe burst out laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so entertained.

“Nullifying someone else’s Right is quite a condition,” the diva breathed between laughs, “I’ll have to set mine to match. Hmm… alright, if I win, I get both of you, twice. Two 24-hour periods, whenever I feel like having them.”

“. . . I can’t make promises for Syuusuke,” Tezuka glared.

“Fuji will do whatever you tell him to, and you know it,” Atobe smirked. “That little thing is desperate to keep your attention.”

“He shouldn’t be. I love him,” Tezuka breathed, his mask breaking a little as his skin warmed.

“Cute, but the way I see it, he really should. Win or lose, we’re still having sex, ahn?”

Atobe managed to keep his laughter inside this time, and just enjoy seeing Tezuka press his lips together.

“I don’t blame you,” the diva leered, unable to resist adding salt. “You’re fascinated by me. You aren’t going to pass this up.”

Tezuka stopped walking, and when Atobe turned to face him, he was met with a fierce glare.

“Look, Tezuka, I get it,” Atobe sighed, letting his mask, that of the diva, fall off for a moment. “You can love someone, but desire something more. We’re greedy fellows, you and I. It works, though, my parents are proof.”

Tezuka stayed stoney, unfolding his arms. The poor man had plenty to think about, Atobe mused.

He walked away, reasserting his characteristic smirk on his face. 

It didn’t matter what Tezuka planned on doing with his Right, because Atobe was going to win.

* * *

After the match, all the Seigaku regulars surrounded Tezuka to coddle his shoulder. Fuji put on a very good show of being concerned over it, but Atobe knew the tensai had plenty more to worry about. Those blue eyes had made contact with his more than once after the game.

The tensai’s tennis had been admirable, and he well deserved his nick name. In fact, Atobe realized Fuji played even better today, than he had two nights ago. Playing angry helped the brunette focus, but Fuji couldn’t commit when playing games about his boyfriend. It seemed their little skirmish had more to do with Fuji’s insecurities than him actually trying to win.

After all, Fuji’s loss had given Tezuka an excuse to make the Challenge about _Fuji_ , instead of sex with Atobe. It was clever, the diva had to admit. The realization made him like Fuji even more.

He’d have to play his cards carefully.

He started to plan.

* * *

Paying Tezuka’s medical bills was no issue. Atobe owned a bicycle that cost more. Convincing Tezuka to accept his generosity had been annoying, until the diva actually stated what the costs would be, and how much his monthly earnings were. Tezuka’s family was well off by plebian standards, but the stoic youth understood he had to accept out of consideration to them. It was his own stubbornness, after all, that caused the injury to be so bad.

The diva made it clear that once Tezuka’s injury was stable, he’d enact his Right. At least that way, Tezuka would think it was Atobe’s selfishness driving him, and not guilt. Atobe Keigo, King of the Ice Kingdom, did not feel petty things like guilt. But the real Atobe did, and it freaked him out, when he saw Fuji a few weeks later, and the brunette smiled at him. He _knew_.

Of course he had to have realized. Atobe hadn’t called in on what he was owed, and that in itself made it obvious. 

Not that Atobe wasn’t planning.

He’d had plenty of time to fantasize, and ever since their match that night, Fuji had become the prime subject of his imagination.

It took him a few weeks to get ready, which gave Tezuka plenty of time to heal. Of course, Atobe knew exactly how the bespectacled captain was faring, since the physical therapist was on his payroll and sent him copies of the reports. 

“Germany?” Tezuka somehow managed to still not sound surprised, impressing Atobe once again. Or perhaps the brunette was incapable of expressing emotions, and the diva thought too highly of him for it.

“For the final stages of your rehabilitation,” the diva purred. “It will be a 6 week program, to strengthen the muscles so you won’t be reinjured. There’s nothing like it in Japan.” 

True, and Tezuka knew it.

“I accept, then. It would be rude for me to turn down your generosity, at this point.”

_Yes, make it about honor, Tezuka,_ Atobe laughed to himself. But he felt a pang of guilt too - Tezuka was struggling to rebuild his dreams. Without tennis, Tezuka was nothing. Atobe could understand, even if he knew tennis would only be a hobby in his own future. 

“Before you go, I’ll be enacting my Right,” the diva smirked, wishing they were talking in person rather than over the phone. He wanted to see that stoic face, to watch for tell-tail twitches. 

“I was expecting you to. When?”

“Saturday.” _After the last day of your rehabilitation. Yes, Tezuka, I know your schedule._

“Text me the address. I’ll tell Syuusuke.” 

Tezuka was irritatingly calm-sounding. Atobe wanted him to feel more… enticed. 

Licking his lips, the diva wondered what he’d have to say to get some foreplay of emotion out of his rival captain. 

“Be sure to bring - ... fuck.” 

Tezuka had hung up on him.

The diva pressed his phone closed with a twitch. 

He was going to have a very fun weekend.

* * *

“A… a boat?” Cautious steps brought Fuji down the ramp, with Tezuka coming down behind him, duffle bags in both of their hands.

Smirking from his place on deck, Atobe waited with one hand on his hip and the other pressed insightfully against his face.

“Twenty four hours, from launch to re-dock,” the diva explained, enjoying the nervous look on the tensai’s face. Both Seigakuens would be trapped, out on the ocean, for his own entertainment. “Kabaji, their bags.”

“Usu.” Footsteps pounding on the deck, Kabaji greeted each of them with a nod, and took the duffle bags. The monstrous student then stepped off the yacht, undid the deck rope, and watched blank eyes as they began to drift away. 

“You won’t be needing those,” Atobe laughed, enjoying the pairs’ expressions. Not that Tezuka’s expression changed much, but a twitching nerve gave him away.

“Let’s be formal, shall we?” The billionaire drawled, as he led the two down to the bedrooms. “I enacted my Right the moment you stepped on my yacht. And I expect both of you to be dressed for the occasion.”

Syuusuke froze when he saw the outfit hanging on the back of the door. 

“You can’t say no,” Atobe clucked. “Tezuka, yours is on the bed. You have ten minutes to join me by the pool.”

* * *

He admired the skill of the crew. They were handpicked and well worth their inflated salaries. They stayed silent and unintrusive, appearing almost magically to refill his drink, and disappearing entirely when Tezuka stepped up on deck.

Were Atobe an uncivilized plebian, he would have whistled. Instead, he simply ate with his eyes, every bit of that well toned, nicely exposed chest.

Black suit pants covered his long legs, but every other part of Tezuka’s body was showing, except for a strip of his neck, which donned a classic, black bow tie. He’d gotten the memo about ditching his shoes, his bare toes curling on the wooden floor, though the glasses were still there. Atobe supposed he could live with that - he didn’t need Tezuka scratching out his eyes trying to put in contacts for the first time. Still, the silver haired captain had put some much effort into acquiring the correct prescription, he promised himself he’d make Tezuka use them at some point. 

“And now you, Syuu- _chan_ , the runway is waiting,” Atobe called towards the steps. Tezuka crossed his arms, clearly not planning to go drag up his boyfriend, but the diva knew from the intensity in those eyes that the bespectacled captain wanted to thank him for his genius ideas.

With cheeks flushed and head bowed, Fuji finally appeared at the top of the stairs. His knees pressed inward, making his fish net covered legs appear even more shapely, and his hands wrung tightly together, hiding his crotch. Atobe’s eyes moved up the black bunny suit, to admire those pale, exposed shoulders, and how very narrow and effeminate the tensai really was.

“. . . It doesn’t fit,” the pale brunette whispered. Atobe beckoned him closer with a wave of his hand.

“It was made for a man, and it fits you just fine.” Quite fine, the diva thought, licking his lips. “Let me see.”

Those hands trembled but slowly moved a part. Smirk growing, Atobe reached out and stroked between Fuji’s thighs. “You tucked it?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Fuji moaned, as Atobe started groping more earnestly, admiring how the tensai had managed to shape himself under the thin leather. “Please… don’t…”

Rubbing his palm up and down, Atobe could feel the tensai shake and tighten, his length constricted by the fabric and unnatural position. Finally the brunette lost his strength to stand, and would have collapsed forward onto Atobe if Tezuka hadn’t grabbed him from behind.

Hands locked around his club member’s waist, Tezuka gave Atobe a look, which the diva decided to interpret as approval. 

“Ah yes, I forgot to have the accessories set out for you, so I had them brought here,” Atobe grinned, pulling a white cloth off the glass table next to him, and unveiling a selection of toys. “Let’s see… you need the ears -” 

He pulled out simple, white bunny ears, and placed them on Fuji’s head. The tensai was panting, his eyes glazed over as Tezuka lowered him onto his hands and knees. 

“- and then there’s the bow.” Atobe had Tezuka tie it on, smirking as he noticed his fellow captain made it nice and tight. “And of course, we can’t forget the tail.”

What he picked up was a little different than a tail, of course. It was shaped like an elongated egg, with a white fuzzy pom pom on one end. Silently, so that Fuji couldn’t see, Atobe handed Tezuka the remote.

He was quite amused at the setting his rival chose. 

“Ah… ah… ah…” Fuji moaned as Atobe rubbed the vibrating egg in circles down his butt crack, and then along where that hardened penis was pushed. Drops of sweat fell onto the deck. “Please… I….”

“Please what?”

“Please…. let me…. take it off…ah...” 

“But you match so cutely with your boyfriend,” the diva purred.

“I… it hurts… nnn…” 

Atobe rubbed a little harder, amused when Tezuka pushed up the level of vibrations. 

But his own cock was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he decided he’d had enough foreplay - for now.

Fuji gasped in relief as Tezuka unzipped the back of the bunny suit, letting the tight leather fall loose. 

“Leave the stockings,” Atobe leered, as Tezuka helped his teammate slide the leather off. 

Beneath the fish nets, Fuji’s manhood had a life of its own, bulging out of the elastic and trying to shift back into its upward place. Choosing a pair of scissors from among the tools, Atobe indicated with a few motions what he wanted to happen, before handing them to Tezuka. Really, such menial tasks were beneath him.

Hazel eyes glared at him hard, but Tezuka got the idea, snipping in just the right places so that Fuji’s penis flew free, and more importantly, his buttcrack was exposed.

The relieved sigh that fluttered from those thin pink lips was cut short, as Atobe pressed the vibrating tail into its rightful place.

“Aahaa..haah...haah…” 

Fuji’s light panting made excellent entrance music as Atobe freed his own aching member from his shorts. He split his legs apart, motioning inwards.

Like a good little bunny, Fuji crawled forward, even though he was shaking. His pink tongue took a hesitant lick, then a longer lick, then began to caress Atobe’s hot member in earnest. Those lips also went into motion, and the diva moaned as he realized he’d discovered another of the tensai’s skills. 

Then his whole manhood was enveloped in that warm mouth, and Atobe could tell how experienced the small brunette was. The diva glanced up at his rival, smirking when he saw the raw lust behind those glasses.

“You could fill that hole with something better than the tail,” Atobe drawled.

Tezuka didn’t hesitate now that he had permission, and undid his pants, letting them fall down to his ankles as he pressed his hips up against Fuji’s ass.

The vibrator popped out, causing a sharp sucking on Atobe’s cock. Sounds like a misplayed violin came out from the tensai’s nose, as Tezuka’s nicely sized development moved into place. 

Tezuka’s hips began rocking slowly, and all of Fuji started rocking as well, his head bobbing in time up and down, up and down, and then Tezuka started pounding harder, and Atobe couldn’t hold back either, bucking up his hips. Fuji arched like an accordion, the two captains ravishing him from both sides, and he might have been screaming but Atobe was too lost in his own pleasure to tell. It was too much, the foreplay and that oh-so-skillful tongue, and now the beautiful image of Seigaku’s treasures fucking hard in front of him, _and_ the knowledge that he was fucking in time with _the_ Tezuka Kunimitsu…

“Yes!” He moaned, feeding his bunny boy semen. Tezuka was doing the same on his end, though silent, his expression which was different than usual said it all. They pulled away at the same time, leaving Fuji coughing, and both tears and cum dripped off his chin. More cum rolled down his inner thighs, and Atobe thought he saw a little drip of red, too. 

Fuji had come, at some point, all over the deck. Atobe was sorry he missed it. 

“Go change,” he ordered, surprised at how hoarse his voice was. “There’s a new outfit on the bed. Not one for you, Tezuka, put that one back on. But go _help_ him.”

A servant magically appeared with another ice tea, while Atobe waited on the deck. 

Stroking his left ball as he sipped the tea, Atobe couldn’t help but marvel at his own powers of insight. As he’d suspected, Tezuka enjoyed torturing Fuji, and Fuji enjoyed being tortured. The tensai approached sex and tennis in the same way - something fun, something he was good at, but something he didn’t mind being on the submissive end of. It didn’t work out so well in tennis, though, where winners and losers were clearly defined. Then again, Fuji probably didn’t think like that… a loss could also be a win, depending on how it was viewed.

Atobe had to have him.

“The other one was better,” Tezuka said monotonously, as he dragged a limping Fuji up by the wrist. 

“It’s a matter of access,” Atobe grinned, pleased to see Fuji looked equally ashamed in this outfit. 

He ought to, with how that short, pleated skirt barely covered his ass. Some cum still shone on his thighs, though removing the fish nets had wiped off some of it, but this view of skin down to those white toes was quite nice. And the girls sailor top, with its midsection cut short, looked adorable by anyone’s standard. And with his chin length hair, Fuji passed, very nicely, for a school girl. A slutty one.

Atobe’s penis went back to being hard.

“Ride it,” he ordered, leaning back in the lounge chair and setting down his tea.

The skirt lifted to show everything as Fuji straddling his lap. His obedience was endearing, as was Tezuka’s. The bespectacled captain took hold of his boyfriend’s sides, positioning him.

And then that devil slid out as Tezuka pushed Fuji down onto Atobe’s hard, wanton erection.

“Aaah!” Fuji’s scream came out in full, now that nothing was in his mouth. 

Tezuka moved him swiftly up and down, helping his boyfriend get fucked by his rival, and, Atobe thought was rather sneaky, overwhelming the diva with the heavy pace. From his viewpoint, Fuji’s hair was floating beautifully in the sun, cum sparkling as it rolled down his arched neck. Atobe let the pleasure overtake him, moaning with each movement, and then suddenly Fuji was pushed down on him, their chests slapping together.

“May I?” Tezuka asked, which was rather cheeky considering he was Atobe’s slave for the day. Laughing, Atobe threw his arms across Fuji’s back to hold him in place.

Tezuka pushed in.

“Ooooh!”

“ _Oh._ ” 

Both Atobe and Fuji moaned simultaneously as the extra pressure hit them. The diva had done all sorts of things, but two cocks in the same hole… _god_ , his dick felt like it’d been shoved into a volcano.

Fuji’s fingers clung to his shoulders, digging hard into his muscles. Tezuka took a fucking year to get his dick all the way in, and now Atobe just wanted him to _move_.

Finally the hazel eyed teen began building up a pace. Atobe worked to move along too, and they slid in and out in different rhythms, setting Fuji and themselves on fire. Saliva and cum dripped out of Fuji’s mouth onto his shoulder, as the tensai panted and cried and moaned. That little penis rubbed between their stomachs, and Atobe could tell it was quite hard and ready.

“Nnng,” Tezuka grunted as he came, and Atobe let himself release as well. Tezuka’s movements forced the three of them apart, like a jigsaw puzzle breaking as someone lifted it from underneath. 

Fuji sobbed quietly against Atobe’s shoulder. Tezuka reached between the tensai’s legs, and Atobe could feel everything on his stomach as Tezuka pumped that hard log in his palm. The bespectacled teen’s free hand pushed into that well enlarged hole, now overflowing with sticky white gel, and Fuji’s sobs turned to load moans as he was kindly fingered to release.

He passed out on top of Atobe.

Tezuka carried him down the stairs, then dutifully returned to deck. 

While Fuji slept, the two captains took turns fucking each other. After all, Atobe liked being bottom as much as he liked being on top. He was glorious in all ways.

The Right, as Atobe saw it, was just an excuse to have sex. A way for two teens, horny as all layers of hell, to meet up without any lingering expectations, and exploit each other. The loser could pretend he didn’t really want it. The winner could lie and say he didn’t chose to enact his Right and have sex, as Yukimura Seiichi always claimed, though Atobe knew the little slut probably let himself be bottom. It was unfortunate he’d yet to face the bluenette in a tournament.

They crawled into bed as quietly as they could, each captain on each side of Fuji, who murmured something but stayed asleep. Tezuka brushed Fuji’s sweat slicked bangs off of his forehead and tenderly kissed on the brunette’s skin before laying back for sleep. Atobe’s eyes narrowed at the little lovey show. 

They slept in, and the servants brought breakfast to the king sized bed they all shared. The twenty-four hours had somehow spent themselves, and Atobe slightly regretted not setting an alarm as the ship pulled in to dock. 

Fuji was still coated in cum and sweat, having fallen asleep before he could shower, as the two captains had. Atobe refused to let them stay on the boat, though, unless they agreed to a bonus round. He was amused by the thought of Fuji riding the train reeking of sex. No doubt Tezuka would have to protect the teen from prying hands on their way home.

Before the two Seigakuens stepped onto the dock, Atobe waved them close. 

“You owe me a second 24-hour period,” he reminded them. “I’ll enact that Right when Tezuka gets back from Germany.”

_Once Syuusuke is already mine._


End file.
